


私が見る窓越しに  - Through the window I see

by the-trickster-and-the-optimist (wwretchedwwaltzing)



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-21
Updated: 2012-09-21
Packaged: 2017-11-14 18:49:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/518396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wwretchedwwaltzing/pseuds/the-trickster-and-the-optimist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki has never found solace in his feelings for Thor. Why should now be any different?</p><p>Based upon the song "Mado Kara Mieru" by Christopher Tin.  [<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fIdo4EhOidY#start=0:00;end=4:46;autoreplay=true;showoptions=false">x</a>]</p>
            </blockquote>





	私が見る窓越しに  - Through the window I see

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Marvel fanwork. It's also grievously unbeta'd, since the majority of it was written on my mobile in English class. What? Marvel is /vastly/ more interesting than Romeo and Juliet! The rest was written at 1am, so I'm really tired and there's likely mistakes.

私が見る窓越しに  Through the window I see  

梅の木の上  On the plum tree

1花、1花の価値 One blossom, one blossom worth

暖かさの of warmth

****  
Childhood for the Odinsons was sweeter the finest Asgardian pastry. Thor was the more rambunctious of the two brothers, although both seemed predispositioned for mischief. Whilst Thor was wild, light and playful, Loki was quiet, intense and chaotic. Both brothers had trouble keeping  out  of trouble, and constantly toed the line Odin drew with their schemes. Seperate, opposite, but their bond was intrinsic and tangible. Neither brother roamed the palace without the other unless there was good reason to.  
  
Their favourite place to play was within Idunn’s orchards. Beneath the apple trees bearing golden fruit, warm sunlight playing dappled patterns in the long grass where they played and fought, it was hard to believe that their life could become better. Sometimes they wrestled, sometimes they scaled the tall branches of the tree, and sometimes they lay and dozed by the roots. It wasn’t uncommon to see the brothers with wooden swords scoring welts and bruises in the morning, returning in the afternoon to see them racing, and finding them curled together asleep in the evening.   
  
“Brother!” Thor cried as he raced into the orchard one evening. A bright grin spread across the young prince’s face, his arms loaded with food, and when Loki realised what Thor’s triumphant return meant, returned the smile. Loki and Thor had been up to their usual mischief, and Odin banned them from any sweets after dinner as punishment. Thor had grew upset, and so Loki had hatched a plan; he had set a small stone jar in the kitchen, it’s lid ajar. Inside was curled a small  pisk , a snake that was known for it’s speed that commonly roamed the orchards. Although not poisonous, many Aesir seemed to fear them irrationally.   
  
Thor had carried out the second part of their plan. Loki had raced back to the orchard, hiding himself when they were shut, and unlocking them from the spare keys kept in a shed to the far north, at the end of a boot-beaten moss pathway. He unlocked the gate to allow Thor to return and settled down with a book to wait.  
  
The elder brother, however, snuck back to the kitchen. When the cooks raced out, shrieking at the  pisk , he entered and snatched all the pastries, honey and hard-boiled sugar sweets he could carry and fled to the orchard. He found the gate ajar, just as Loki promised, and as the sun set upon Asgard, he met his brother beneath their favourite tree.   
  
“Look, Loki!” Thor said happily. “We have stormed the kitchens and succeeded!”   
  
“So I see.” Loki replied, taking the lemon tart that Thor offered him and nibbling the pastry case. Thor flopped beside him, squashing the two between the roots. It was comfortable, being so close to Loki, even though a root jabbed into his hip. To accommodate both brothers, Loki was forced to wiggle under Thor’s arm. It lead to a hug where Loki was resting against Thor’s chest, and Thor’s arm was wound around Loki’s waist.  
  
“I only hope every siege we lead will be as successful! Nay, I know so, with you leading us!”  
  
“I?” Loki said, sitting up. “You think I will be king? A good king?”  
  
“I don’t think so, brother.” Thor’s grin grew larger, squeezing his younger brother close. “I know so.”    
  
  


私が見る窓越しに  Through the window I see

緑のビュー A view of greenery

野生のカッコウ a wild cuckoo

第一鰹 the first bonito

****  
  
  
As the matured and aged, they played within Idunn’s orchards less, and their bond grew less profound, if not less tangible. Thor gained new friends; The Warriors Three and Sif, known then only by their names, and became more interested in fighting. ‘A good king must always be ready to fight, Loki!’ he’d say, flinging an arm around his brother. Loki would smile back weakly. He was younger, but he possessed a wiry strength in his gangly limbs and he was sharp as a tack. Besides that, he was showing a great promise in magicks, something Thor sorely lacked.   
  
Not that Thor noticed, or so Loki thought. He worked hard, studied night on night, only to find even when he bested Thor in sparring, he didn’t get the credit he deserved. Both would walk away from their matches knowing they would regret them in the morning, and they won roughly as many battles as they lost. But Odin, the Warriors Three, Sif; no-one cared for Loki’s skills. Only Thor’s.   
  
This was more than discouraging to Loki. It felt like he had to work twice as hard as his brother to gain half the recognition. Not that his skills particularly helped. He wasn’t strong like Thor. He used words, trickery and illusions; not precisely seen as lesser, but not held in the same regard as brute strength and unwavering courage. Nothing he could do would match his brother.  
  
Of course, only the Norns could have known how Loki’s cry for attention would manifest. Not in battle, not in vicious words as sharp and cruel as any dwarven sword, but in rough kisses and fingers like claws digging into spar-abused ribs, in helmets being torn aside and thrown across the library. Hot breath, lips caught in teeth and fingers caught in hair, soft moans and bodies pressed together from thigh to neck. Here, like this, Thor could not ignore his younger brother as he overwhelmed all five of his senses.  
  
And then Thor pulled away and gave him a look that was a mixture of fear and revulsion, and Loki raced away with light feet and shut himself away. Thor raced after him, leaving their feathered and horned helmets where they fell. By time he reached Loki’s room the door was bolted against him, and so he threw himself against his door, pounding hard with his fists until they were bruised and tender. He broke a knuckle trying to get Loki to open up. By time his hammering slowed and quietened to knocks, the sobbing that was muffled by the noise had quietened altogether.   
  
Inside, Loki was curled up in silken sheets and warm furs, his head pressed into his now tear-dampened pillow. He ignored Thor’s knocking, and when he could no longer hear his brother’s efforts, dropped into a gentle slumber that was plagued by the look on Thor’s face when he kissed him.   
  
He awaited punishment. Laws prevented such events from happening! Even if Thor and he were not brothers, they were of the same sex. But no such rebuking came. Loki was grateful for that; Thor could keep his mouth closed if his brother’s life depended on it.  
  
  


私が見る窓越しに Through the window I see

秋の風 the autumn wind

で鳴り響く山 resounds in the mountain --

寺の鐘 temple bell

****  
  
By the time a date was set for Odin to step down and give the throne to his eldest, the events of their adolescence were behind them and nearly forgotten by Thor. Loki, however, had not.   
  
He was no longer Thor’s favourite, no longer the one he fawned over and cherished. Sif had taken his place by his brother’s side, with the Warrior’s Three to follow them. Beyond their rough, chaste kiss in Asgard’s library, their relationship as brothers had disintegrated. Or, so it had to Loki. Thor still believed, foolishly, that Loki was still his.   
  
He wasn’t. Sif was. Sif, the one who was known as Thor’s love. In a fit of jealousy, Loki had snuck into her room one night and cut her hair off, leaving her with a scruffy, short mess that grew out not it’s usual waves of blond, but black as night. Instead of turning Thor away from Sif, he had strengthened their bond, and it was declared when Thor was king, preparations would begin for them to wed.   
  
Sif, the betrothed to the great Thunder god. Loki almost spat at the idea of his brother being with someone other than  him , as a brother or a friend or a lover. His bitterness over losing his brother only intensified upon hearing that he would be Asgard’s king. Loki would take the place as Thor’s counsel. Counsel! Besides the fact Thor was not suited to be King, he had not worked nearly as hard as Loki. It made his adolescence, those frantic hours of studying, seem worthless and petty in retrospect.   
  
Thor had always been Odin’s favourite. That was the simple fact of the matter, and he thought he was so foolish to believe that he had a chance in Niflheim at beating Thor to the crown. Loki, God of Mischief and Trickery. Tricked and led on by himself, by Odin, and by Thor, to believe he, the lesser of the Odinsons, far cleverer and wiser than Thor could be king. Because wisdom and mental strength meant naught to Odin.   
  
And so he schemed. He pushed the boundaries of his magic to look for an answer to stopping Thor’s coronation. To his utmost surprise, he found it not within Asgard, but within another realm; the realm of Jotunheim, land of the frost giants and of the Aesir’s biggest enemy.   
  
  


どれだけ長く how much longer

私の人生ですか？ is my life?

[短い夜...] [a brief night] 

**  
**

**** Falling. The sensation of tugging on his gut and the sharpness of glittering stars as he glanced around, pale green eyes searching the darkness. Swirls of colour as he plunged into the void, sucking up all the matter around him. And then he was suspended in warmth, like being curled in a protective womb. He curled up, knees tucked to his chest, and howled his grief.   
  
He lay in this slumber for what could have been centuries, before a curious sensation took his mind. It led him through the welcoming quagmired void, showing him the way out. It told him that everything would be okay if he just listened to it.   
  
And then creatures clamped around his head and his memories turned fuzzy. Snatches of some dark chaos he released onto Midgard, the Chitauri as they whirred and clicked in preparation for battle. Some green monster tearing through the guts of some floating Midgardian fortress. Thor, dropping like a stone before his eyes as he slayed his comrade. His brother’s final plea.   
  
And then everything faded to black.   
  
  


私が見る窓越しに   Through the window i see

私は考えることができるすべての   all i can think of 

病気で寝されている    is being sick in bed

雪に閉じ込められたと....   and snowbound.....

****  
His nightmares held only Thanos, the Chitauri, and death. Thanos threatened him, warning Loki that he was nothing more than a vessel, and that the Chitauri would crush him for his failure. Their voices rose in unanimous, rhythmic chirps. Claws alighted on his skin, and he saw a thousand horrors pass before his eyes. Many involved Thor. Many more involved Thor’s death. He fought, throwing and tossing his head side to side and screaming. He was exhausted, though, and his fight was for naught. More horrors passed. In every one, he lived to watch the broken excuse for his life pan out. When he was exhausted from fighting back and the emotional trauma, the Chitauri left his broken body in the dirt and he was allowed to return to his own slowly.  
  
“My brother.”   
  
He emerged from his nighterror to find only strong arms and comfort. Somehow, Thor’s skin smelt warm, like sunshine. But still the infernal bleeping, the chirping he heard from the Chitauri, permeated the place.   
  
Thor was squashed into the small bed beside him, his arms wrapped around Loki’s torso and they were curled up together like they did beneath Idunn’s trees as children. The memory was now twisted and bittersweet, like liquorice on his tongue. He was, for the first day, too tired to do more than doze quietly as his brother remained close, leaving with him that warm sunshine scent wherever he went.    
  
Days two and three brought visitors, severe faced and with warnings of their own. If he was to try and escape, he would be crushed. If he tried to kill anyone, he would be crushed. If he tried to do anything besides lay and recover enough to return to Asgard, he would be crushed. The man - Fury - kept returning to the ant and the boot metaphor.   
  
“Ants live in colonies, Director.” he croaked. “Do not believe whole-heartedly that your boot will be able to cope.”  
  
The Midgardian swept out, and he was left once more with Thor. Day four brought the ability to walk around, Thor suggesting he take hold of his arm and Loki refusing; bruised knees and skittering across the floor like marbles on glass. Throughout the days, he found the beeping remained behind him, the continuous chitter of the Chitauri which prompted his night terrors. He discovered that the monitor that watched his heart was the one creating the beep and so destroyed it. He found the terrors foolish and a waste of time.  
  
Day five brought his return home. The park was wide and open, and even so tourists moved away from them, anxious to be away from the monster and monster-summoner. He glared them all down, and they fled. Midgardians, he thought. How quaint in their ideas about his power.  
  
The Tesseract tore Thor and Loki from the earth. It was the most uncomfortable feeling. The  Bifröst was like touching gilded wings to fierce, trusting currents, allowing the rider to soar between the realms. The Tesseract was like being torn from the ground and ripped through space, dragging the rider across every piece of rock, glass and sand on the way up. When they landed on the  Bifröst with Heimdallr to greet them, Loki felt worse than he did on his first day after the battle on Midgard.   
  


私が見る窓越しに Through the window I see 

この孤独なアイリス The lone iris 

白 white

春のたそがれ時に in spring twilight.

****  
Loki’s punishment was fitting enough, he supposed. Thor was the only one to stay with him whilst he sat in Asgard’s prisons, his guts twisting. Even if he outwardly appeared nonplussed, it was not the kind of punishment one walked into without the slightest bit of anxiety over the pain he would suffer. Not that he could complain - not with the vicious metal muzzle pressing his lips together.  
  
Thor gripped Loki’s hand in his paw. The younger no longer cared about what Thor did. He spent his entire life having his heart broken, indirectly and directly, by him. He was simply too tired to bother with it anymore. He had bigger things to worry about.  
  
“I am truly sorry, brother.” Thor broke the silence. Loki looked up, confused; why would he apologise for his actions? Loki rose one eyebrow.   
  
“You cannot speak.” Thor’s fingers traced the muzzle by his cheek, and Loki couldn’t vocalise the thought that equated to ‘of course I can’t, you great mindless oaf’. He felt the pads of Thor’s fingers touch his cheek, and although he longed to lean into the touch, did not. “And I do know you think me stupid, Loki. But it is true; I have been stupid. Stupid and blind.”  
  
Loki’s eyebrow twitched again.   
  
“I know now that you did what you did because of I. Because of your jealousy. I remember when we were small, our adventures and games.” Thor grew quiet for a moment. “Loki; I cannot stand against the All-father. But know that I am truly sorry for this. I would join you in punishment if I could keep my brother, for I love you more than all the realms in Yggdrasil.”  
  
Thor pressed a kiss to Loki’s forehead and wrapped him up in his arms. Loki rested his head against Thor’s shoulder, and the brothers sat in each other’s embrace until a guard told them to move. Loki got to his feet whilst he was lead back out to the palace, and Thor, unable to bear the thought of Loki’s sentence, crept and hid away.  
  
Loki was distant whilst Odin told him what his crimes were, and the punishment he was to suffer. He would be sent to the Land of Silence, tied there to a tree, and then a snake would be fastened there to drip acidic poison onto his flesh. There was no talking around it. He needed to be punished.  
  
Oh yes. It would hurt. But not quite as much as having Thor gone would hurt.

**Author's Note:**

>  _pisk_ is a Nordic word meaning "whip".


End file.
